the smell of my desperation has become a stench

On parenthood, and why you should rethink it

I returned home late last night from DC only to wake up this morning to one horrifically sick baby. Chipped-tooth, ringwormed baby Bobo now has a mouth and tongue covered in giant white canker sores.

ATTENTION UNIVERSE: when I write about Marlo’s ailments I’m not asking you to give me more content. We clear?

Also, Jon has managed to keep her fever at a manageable level since Sunday, but the fever persisted this morning. As well as the constant monotone moaning which I can forgive her for because one, she’s sick, and two, she does this really cute thing where she can’t get comfortable anywhere, will walk in circles looking for just the right spot, and then she’ll lie right down on her stomach, put her head on the floor and stretch her arms out as if she’s trying to hug the house.

Just like that one friend I had in LA who smoked all that weed.

Back to the doctor where the diagnosis was pretty much, yeaahhhhh. Kids get these viruses in their systems and stuff like this happens! In fact, it should get much, much worse before it gets better. Like, don’t be surprised if she opens her mouth and a giant eight-foot squid pops out! Just try to remain calm so she doesn’t freak out.

This couldn’t come at a better time because I’m going to be doing the solo parenting thing for the next four days. Without childcare of any kind. I know, don’t I deserve a cookie? A big one with a giant middle finger crafted out of chocolate frosting right on top. Except when I take a bite I suddenly realize, oh my god that’s not frosting.

My sister and the women like her would look at this situation and be all, honey, add seven more kids, a broken toilet, and a teenager who just walked in the door carrying a goat with foot and mouth disease. Average Friday night RIGHT THERE.

In an effort to gear up for the rest of this week I indulged in a massage yesterday morning while in DC, except I was so tired that I fell asleep in the middle of it. And the only reason I woke up was because I choked on a giant snore and jerked my right foot about two feet into the air barely missing the massage therapist’s face. And to class that up even more I TRIED TO PLAY IT OFF. Like I was clearing my throat and stretching my leg.

Don’t worry about us, Jon! I’ve got everything covered!

Heather B. Armstrong

Hi. I’m Heather B. Armstrong, and this used to be called mommy blogging. But then they started calling it Influencer Marketing: hashtag ad, hashtag sponsored, hashtag you know you want me to slap your product on my kid and exploit her for millions and millions of dollars. That’s how this shit works. Now? Well… sit back, buckle up, and enjoy the ride.

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